


Stay In The Truck!

by earth2skye



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-14
Updated: 2008-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-13 03:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15355554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earth2skye/pseuds/earth2skye
Summary: You might be able to guess ;-) Blair's gottastay in the truck.





	Stay In The Truck!

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Elaine, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Artifact Storage Room 3](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Artifact_Storage_Room_3) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Artifact Storage Room 3’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/artifactstorageroom3/profile).
> 
> **Author's notes:**
> 
> I consider this to be my first finished fic, ever, mostly because everything else I wrote back then and am still writing is rather longish and in various stages of (in)completion. This is very short though, really just a ficlet. Born out of a bit of desperation not to mention frustration with my muse for running off on ridiculously long tangents in terms of story plots, this was once written as DUES for the Sentinel Angst list in October 2006.
> 
> Betaed by Psychgirl, all remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Beware of some language (I'm afraid my non-UPN-primetime-edited Blair kinda swears a bit when he's in a fit.)
> 
> .

"Stay in the truck, Sandburg."

Here we go again.  _"Stay in the Truck!", "Stay put!", "Wait here, Chief!", "Don't move!"_ .... Different phrases, different situations and yet it always comes down to this, me waiting while Jim goes off to face whatever "routine, don't worry" situation a _civilian_ nevertheless has no business being in.  Dammit,  I so hate this.

For one thing, I hate being told what to do pretty much in any situation; cue Naomi and my unconventional upbringing I guess.  Anyway,  But I like being told what to do even less if I don't like what I'm being told to do, which this like _so_ qualifies for.  Hello?  We've done everything on this case together so far.  I worked my fucking ass off the other night, researching the information Jim needed to cross-reference the damn lists of suspects and, coincidentally, delivered the one bit of info that narrowed it down to only one name.  Not to mention that I was also the one who typed it all up neat and tidy so the judge would sign off on the warrant to arrest this guy and search his place. 

But am I allowed to reap the rewards, to take this asshole down and see the look on his face when Jim puts the cuffs on him?

Nope, got it in one,  I have to _stay in the truck_ ; thank you very much! 

Dammit, I'm so riled up I could climb the walls of that skyscraper out there.  Okay, maybe I'd stop on the first floor. Still not a big fan of heights, but you get my drift.

Why the hell am I not allowed to back up my partner?  It's not like I haven't done it before, is it?  And in far less "routine, nothing to worry about" situations.  Been there, done that, lived to tell about it.  So what's the big deal with me going with Jim now?  He is _alone_ in there now.  How stupid is that?  Okay, maybe not really alone.  Megan and Joel are manning the front and rear entrance of the building, and there are a few squad cars on call nearby, but Jim's going up to face the suspect _alone_ . 

How is that better than me going with him?  Contrary to what he seems to be thinking sometimes, he's not Superman, for god's sake!  Even Simon would agree with me on the latter. But Simon, the traitor, wants _me_ with Jim on a bust like this even less than Jim. Guess the paperwork he'd have to do if I got hurt must really suck. 

Oops, sorry, Simon, didn't really mean that.

It's been five minutes, five lousy minutes.  Seems even the damn universe hates me and has slowed time down to near standstill.  Figures.  Why should I catch a break, right? Jim's probably not even in position yet. 

_Dammit, don't go there, Sandburg!_   _Don't imagine what he's doing. You know what it gets you._

I've long since made it a point to try and not think about what's going on with Jim when I'm waiting like this.  What's the point, right?  I'm gonna hear all about it soon anyway, and since I gotta _stay in the truck_ I can't fucking do anything to change it, either. 

As usual, of course, that plan isn't working and I'm stuck with my mind on a continuous loop of "Blair's top ten worst nightmares".  Seriously, the ideas my brain comes up with of how many different ways Jim could get hurt in this scenario alone.... It would even scare the good Mrs. Katz, who had the unfortunate pleasure of having to counsel my wise-ass, run-off-at-the-mouth teenage self for two years when I was still at school.  Why can't my so-called "vivid imagination" work _for_ me for a change?  I could dream myself away to the Caribbean or on a nice expedition to the rain forest.  But no, instead I get blood and gore and lifeless blue eyes and...dammit.

The door handle has never looked so enticing.  Or maybe it has.  Come to think about it, it pretty much always looks that way when I'm in this situation.  And it's not like I haven't grabbed it and gotten the hell out of the truck before either.  Several times, in fact.  And what happened then, huh?  Hasn't my instict usually been right on the marker?  Hasn't Jim _actually_ needed me, or at least been very well off with my help those times?  What if he needs me now?

And what if he doesn't?  What if I'd only interfere, make a complete nuisance of myself and manage to increase the danger for him?  Who am I kidding, right?  I'm not Superman either.  I'm not even hero material.  I value my life.  I usually duck when the bullets start flying and run when somebody shouts "fire!". Well usually, anyway.  But dammit!  What good is that if Jim doesn't get down, too, or out of the building?  What good is my safe and sound ass, when the call comes over the radio that an officer is down, when I drive to the hospital to find that Jim's being rushed off to emergency surgery for a bullet wound or worse? 

What the hell is my damn life worth without his, huh?  And why the hell does _he_ get to tell _me_ to stay in the truck, so _he_ doesn't have to worry about _me,_ huh?  That's so fucking unfair, man!

So here we are again.  I'm waiting.  I'm angry.  I'm angry because I'm just so damned scared.  It's been over twenty minutes now and I still _hate_ this. 

The radio crackles to life.  Joel's voice comes over the ether calmly requesting a squad car to take a suspect downtown to the station.  It's over, I realize.  The moment where the door handle looked most enticing has come and gone.  Guess my instinct was right on the mark again.  

I grin to myself, part of it remorseful for all the ugly stuff that went through my mind just now, but mostly because I'm just so fucking relieved.  No call for an ambulance, no shots fired.  Everything went down without a hitch.  Routine.  Nothing to worry about.  Yeah, got it. 

Jim's still gonna get an earful for this tonight... just like always.


End file.
